‘What do you know about poverty?’ The tall, aggressive man, who now has even more vodka in his veins, looks straight at me. ‘Do you really think that poverty has to do with having no money? Do you think we’re miserable wretches just because we go around begging money from rich writers and guilt-ridden couples, from tourists who think how terribly squalid Paris has become or from idealistic young people who think they can save the world? You’re the one who’s poor—you have no control over your time, you can’t do what you want, you’re forced to follow rules you didn’t invent and which you don’t understand…’
—The Zahir, Paulo Coleho (pg. 217)